Concession
by Late Night Iridescence
Summary: When Toriko reacts badly to the news of Komatsu's agreement with Zebra, it's up to the injured chef to convince him they can work together. Slight Toriko/Komatsu/Zebra. Spoilers for 138-140.


He'd wanted the opposite of this.

Komatsu stumbled in the sand, catching himself on the coarse grains with his hands and knees. Pain spiked through him as he struggled for breath. The bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, keeping his ravaged insides from further banging themselves to hell and back, weren't helping matters; it felt as if some huge hand had reached through skin and muscle to compress his lungs, gripping them in a chokehold.

Off in the distance, Komatsu could hear the explosive sounds of fighting.

_Komatsu hissed his way to wakefulness. Carefully cracking open an eye, he took stock of the situation: he was laying in some sort of plain white room, a single window raised to let in hot sunlight and blessedly fresh air, and the incessant beeping of an annoying machine was nearly drowned out by muffled shouting. There were mussed, much larger beds on either side of his, obviously slept in._

_He was in a hospital, which certainly explain why he ached as if he'd been pummeled by Toriko's Kugi Punch._

_As Komatsu haltingly pulled the oxygen mask from his mouth, the shouting grew louder, until he could make out what the familiar voices were yelling about. He wanted to tell them both off, maybe get cocky and do some shouting of his own because his throbbing head precluded any niceties. Better yet, _why_ were Toriko and Zebra fighting instead of resting? The bishokuya had been badly injured while 'cooking' the Sphinx._

"_- gives you the right to blackmail Komatsu?"_

"_It isn't fucking blackmail if he readily agrees. Which he did, straight up."_

"_Because you threatened him! Komatsu is terrified of you, Zebra, of course he agreed!"_

"_You don't give the kid enough credit - couldn't threaten him if I wanted to. Kid's got big steel ones." A rusty laugh._

"_I don't doubt that." Komatsu felt a brief twinge of pleasure at Toriko's confidence in him. "But you underestimate yourself, Zebra. You said _something_ to pressure Komatsu into an agreement."_

"_Oi-"_

"_Enough. You've been spoiling for a fight. Let's take this outside, and when we're done you keep your hands off of _my _partner for good."_

_Komatsu didn't hear Zebra's acceptance, but twin sets of heavy footsteps stomped angrily away from the door. Frightened by the prospect of what sort of damage two Heavenly Kings were capable of inflicting on each other, he sat up too quickly, hanging onto the bed railing, breathing through the pain as it peaked and slowly subsided to a tolerable level._

"_Zebra-san!" he cried out, knowing the man could hear him. "Please don't do this!"_

_No answer. Zebra was choosing to ignore him._

_As he tugged frantically at the IV needle threaded into his veins, Komatsu glanced around the room, hoping for his clothes and failing miserably to spot them. He was still fuzzy on the details of exactly what happened; he remembered being struck from behind, the enraged roars as Toriko and Zebra turned on his attacker…but everything after that was dark. Perhaps his clothes had been ruined._

_Komatsu ignored the small trickle of blood that tracked down his arm as he finally worked the needle free. With no shoes, no shirt, and only the abrasive hospital supplied pants to cover him, Komatsu yanked open the sliding door and stumbled into the hallway before realizing he had no idea where he was going._

_Luckily, there were helpful signs directing wayward patients to the exit in bold red letters. Komatsu edged down a flight of stairs, pushing aside the demands of his screaming body, worried about falling and aggravating whatever wounds he'd sustained but urging himself faster nevertheless, and emerged into a chair strewn reception area. The entrance stood across from him._

_Disregarding the startled shouts of the blonde receptionist, Komatsu charged into the burning afternoon light._

Their fight kicked up quite the dust storm. Komatsu headed towards it, brushing grit out of the scrapes on his palms. Without his protective desert outfit, the sweltering heat was getting to him - by the time this mess ended, he'd be one huge sunburn. He could practically see his exposed skin turning red before his eyes.

These small troubles were wiped from his mind as Komatsu drew close enough to glimpse Toriko and Zebra through the haze of sand.

It took a moment for Komatsu to realize what was happening; Toriko, throwing a flurry of Flying Knives - one of which clipped Zebra on the shoulder as he tried to maneuver his bulk out of the way - as cover, snuck in close enough to lash out with a kick Zebra dodged by the skin of his teeth.

It had not been a Leg Knife, Komatsu noted with relief. At least Toriko was holding back a little. But a slice appeared across Zebra's nose, blood dripping over his lips to mingle with the vivid red liquid oozing from his flayed shoulder. Mouth falling wide, Zebra launched a Sound Missile at Toriko's retreating form that missed by a mile.

Komatsu paused. Instead of simply jumping between them as he'd planned, he steadied himself and watched the fight progress. Toriko attacked continuously, clearly on the offensive as Zebra concentrated on avoiding the majority of what Toriko flung at him, only partially successful. Nearly all of Zebra's return strikes missed by a large margin, and those that didn't merely ruffled Toriko's hair.

_Zebra-san is missing on purpose_, Komatsu thought. _He's keeping our promise even though it's costing him to do so._

Blinking tears from his eyes, Komatsu tore towards his battling friends. Getting between them was the only option left. He just hoped Toriko didn't accidentally hit him. God, he'd break in half.

"Toriko-san!" Komatsu bellowed at the top of his voice, choking on the dust smothered air. "Toriko-san, stop!"

He skidded on the sand, flinging his hands out to either side, still screaming at his partner to stop. Cringing as a Fork went whizzing over his head, Komatsu braced himself for the worst as a dead silence fell. The only sound was the shrieking wind stinging his cheeks.

"Komatsu?" The chef in question tentatively raised his bowed head. Toriko jogged to his side, expression wavering between concern and lingering anger. "How did you get out here?"

"I ran," Komatsu said, wincing as he shifted on the balls of his feet. He peeked at one, and sure enough there was an army of blisters forming across the bottom.

"Why -"

"I know you mean well, Toriko-san." Komatsu cut him off. "But this whole mess was unnecessary. Zebra-san didn't threaten me! O-okay, maybe a little…not anything bad, though." Komatsu wanted to smack himself. Of all times to get tongue-tied!

Toriko frowned but gestured for Komatsu to continue, and he smiled as Zebra collapsed to sit cross-legged in the sand. "Zebra-san may have, um, implied that he'd leave if I refused to meet his conditions, one of which was for me to partner with him. I believed him at the time and agreed so we could get the Mellow Cola."

"At the time?"

"Yes." Komatsu nodded firmly.

"And now?

"I don't think Zebra-san would have left. Because he cares too much," he said, and ignored Toriko's snort of incredulity. Zebra barked out a scoffing laugh. "I've got proof."

They both broke off when Komatsu gestured to Toriko, who stood against the pure blue sky without a scratch.

"Can you really fight seriously with Zebra-san and not be hurt, Toriko-san?" Toriko looked down at his unmarked body, then at Zebra, his face a mask of curious confusion now that his anger had drained away. "Part of our promise was for Zebra-san to get along with you, no extraneous fighting. He honored his end for my sake, Toriko-san, and I intend to do the same."

Zebra was grinning now, the ripped corner of his mouth turning up wickedly. Muscles tense, Toriko scowled, upper lip curling to reveal his sharp canines in a display of possessiveness that had Komatsu's toes curling despite the pain.

"Relax, Toriko. The kid is aiming for a three man team," Zebra said, leaning back on his hands. "He only said yes because I agreed to his last condition - it isn't like he'd abandon you for me." Komatsu flushed at the truth of this. "Wouldn't want an easy partner anyway."

"Toriko-san." Komatsu's voice lowered in his urgency, recognizing the suspiciously thoughtful expression stealing across his partner's face. "I've seen for myself how well you and Zebra-san work together. Think of the Gourmet World, Toriko-san! If it's the three of us, there isn't an ingredient we can't capture!"

Toriko's gaze flickered fleetingly from Komatsu, fists clenched and shoulders set in determination, to Zebra, who was watching Komatsu stand up for what he knew was best, oddly subdued. If he hadn't known Zebra their entire lives, he'd think the man looked almost humbled.

Komatsu bit his lip, breath snagging in his throat as he waited for Toriko's decision. He'd said what he wanted - no, _needed_ - to, but if Toriko turned his request aside, what could he do? Crossing his fingers, Komatsu prayed he wouldn't have to find out.

"Geez, Coco and Sunny are going to be jealous," Toriko said at last, and Komatsu beamed fiercely at his acceptance.

He darted into Toriko's arms, cheek pressed to his stomach as he squeezed as tightly as he was able. Chuckling, Toriko twined the fingers of one hand through Komatsu's windblown hair, the other dropping to cradle the small of his back.

"Thank you, Toriko-san," Komatsu whispered, content to just let Toriko hold him, the soreness in his body soothed to a dull ache by the comforting heat of Toriko's hands. A thumb dragged across the skin just above the waistband of his pants, bringing a blush to Komatsu's face even as he melted, utterly boneless, against his partner.

"Oi, we done with the drama? I'm getting sick of this fucking sand."

They broke away to see Zebra scowling at them with open impatience. Komatsu grinned and rushed him, and Zebra found himself with an unexpected lapful of chef, slender arms draped around his neck and tiny toes digging into his calves as Komatsu strained to rest his face in the curve of Zebra's uninjured shoulder.

"Goddamn it, kid," Zebra growled, but the hands prying Komatsu away were gentle. "I've got another condition: no more of this snuggly shit."

"I can't agree to that, Zebra-san," Komatsu said, smiling sweetly at his newest partner as Toriko doubled over in laughter. "Hugging is part of the package."

* * *

><p>AN - Poor Zebra. What to do with an armful of affectionate chef when breaking spines isn't an option? _He_ certainly doesn't know.

In before canon separates my OT3.

It got slashy near the end even though I meant for this to be gen, orz. It may well be impossible with this series.

I have a Zebra/Komatsu one-shot in the works (which will be my next post), a few ideas for Toriko/Komatsu, and then a Coco/Komatsu.

Also have a chaptered Toriko/Komatsu/Coco cooking competition fic planned for later this year.

…At least I won't run out of bunnies.


End file.
